


aflame

by biconburr



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Canon Era, F/F, Infidelity, Minor Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Post-Reynolds Pamphlet, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 06:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20003791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biconburr/pseuds/biconburr
Summary: Revenge doesn't come to Eliza until Martha Washington knocks on her door.





	aflame

**Author's Note:**

> for femslashficlets - fire and trope-bingo - hurt/comfort.
> 
> enjoy!

Even as her world burned in front of her, Eliza hadn’t contemplated getting revenge on Alexander, on her terrible, wonderful husband, until Martha Washington came to her door.

She straightens up when someone knocks on the door, heading towards it and fixing her dress as an afterthought more than anything. She opens it and she gapes a little at the sight of Martha Washington. Her age is getting to her, of course, but she still looks radiant, smiling at her with something like pity in her eyes. Something like comfort in her eyes, like milk and cookies.

She swallows. “Ms. Washington,” she says, bowing a little. 

“Oh, Eliza, you don’t ought to be so formal around me,” she tells her, squeezing her shoulder. That simple touch makes her whole body warm with the need for more of it. Alexander has been too busy trying to save a little bit of his reputation to come home and touch her— it’s not like she’d accept the touch, anyway. “Would you like some tea? I’d love to make you feel even a little bit better.”

She shakes her head a little as she leads her to the kitchen. “Oh, Ms. Washington, don’t worry about that.”

“I want to worry about that,” she tells her as she heads to heat the kettle up. “So, dear, how are the kids? Are they coping alright with this— with this all?” 

“Well,” she starts, fiddling with her hands. “We’ve all seen better.”

Martha curses under her breath a little, her brows furrowing. “I’m so sorry — I can’t believe… God, I can’t believe Alexander would do this to you. My George always talked so good of him.”

Eliza reaches for the teacup she offers her and sips from it quietly. “Well, they are both men.”

Martha lets out a bright laugh that makes her world just a little bit lighter. “That’s true,” she concedes. “They’re both men. Selfish creatures.”

“Mm,” she nods, finishing her tea. “It’s just…. disheartening, I suppose. I believed we had the stuff of dreams.”

She sits next to her, puts a hand on her thigh, careful. “We all thought we had the stuff of dreams, dear.” She tilts her head. “But I must say that, ah, well…” She slides her hand farther up, making Eliza squirm a little on her seat. “I believe that no holds are barred now that he has done this to you.”

Eliza sucks in a breath, her head swimming. “Ms. Washington… I don’t want to stoop down to his level.”

“It will help you relax,” she argues quietly, standing up and pulling herself closer to her. “Get him off your mind. He does not deserve to be in your thoughts.”

She stares up at her and she stares back relentlessly, not a word spoken between the two married women.

“I suppose so,” she agrees after a few seconds of silence.

Martha smiles at her, leans down to kiss her. Her lips are sweeter than anything she’s ever had before, her hands on her, setting her body aflame with want. She missed being touched, to touch and be touched, and now she’s getting it from the hands of Washington’s wife, and well, she couldn’t be happier about it.

She kisses Martha awkwardly, fiddles with her dress. She knows Alexander will be the last thing on her mind after this.


End file.
